Mystery Drink
by angelfromhigh
Summary: Hermione Granger, know it all extraordinare, would look back on the evening and determine that it was indeed the mystery drink handed to her by Fred, or was it George, that pushed her over her limit. A night of drunkeness creates interesting results.


A/N Reposted with minor changes, hopefully I caught all my mistakes, if not...I'll re-edit again I promise

I still only own a work uniform and a ratty pair of shoes...but I did buy these really cute shoes today...but anyways...

* * *

Hermione would look back on the particular evening in question and determine that the mystery drink offered to her by Fred (or was it George) was the drink that pushed her over her limit.

Although the entire night she was never without a drink in her hand, it was most definitely Fred (or George's) bluish-yellow, sweet tasting, mystery drink that had gotten Hermione, know-it-all, prime-and-perfect, Head-Girl-that-wasn't, never-breaks-the-rules, Granger good and thoroughly sloshed.

"I do so break rules!" Hermione slurred, realizing she had no idea when she actually started her conversation with Ginny. "I've broken more rules than you have Miss Ginerva Weably...I mean Weaselby- I mean, Welsley-"

Before Hermione could correct herself, Ginny cut her off "You. Miss. Hermione. Granger. Are. Completely. Trashed." Ginny punctuated each of her words with a thrust of her finger to Hermione's left shoulder.

After a significant minute had passed and Hermione had finally comprehended what Ginny had just said to her, she responded with an appropriate, "Ow," finally raising her right arm to her shoulder, and rubbing the place that had just been attacked by the fiery red head. "So what? It's MY Auror graduation party, why shouldn't I be completely druuuunk!" Hermione accentuated her point with a grand sweep of her arms towards the empty glasses that sat on the table she was currently leaning on. She promptly sent the empty (and not so empty) cups falling to the floor.

The white carpet suddenly became a wash of blue, red and yellow as the remnants of were spilled.

Bending down (in what Hermione considered a swift movement) slowly, Hermione began gathering up the evidence, and leaned in slightly to the aiding Ginny "Shh...don't tell Harry or Ron I ruined their white carpet."

"Hermy, I solemnly swear I'm up to no good - wait, that's not right, I solemnly swear I won't breathe a word." Ginny held her hand across her left breast, indicating she was saying her words from the heart.

"Ginny, I don't know what I'dve done without you all these years. You're my only true girl friend you know?" Hermione said taking a sitting position on the floor, indicating for Ginny to sit next to her.

"You're my only girl friend TOO" Ginny exclaimed loudly.

Feeling as though they had just shared an important bonding moment, Hermione threw her arms around the red head, and exclaimed "I'm so glad we had this talk!"

Somewhat ungracefully Hermione lifted herself up from the floor and scanned the room. Around the coffee table, a group of boys - including Harry, who looked fetching in the lighting, and Ron, who let out a loud burp and didn't excuse himself - were playing some sort of drinking version of exploding snaps (a seemingly dangerous game Hermione thought even in her uber-inebriated state).

In the corner Lavender and Seamus appeared to be having a heated debate over the benefits of Witch Weekly and Witch Monthly. Deciding that none of the prospect in this room seemed to interest her, Hermione made her way to the kitchen, where Fred and George (or was it George and Fred) were playing bartender, handing out drinks and mixing a random assortment.

After watching an extremely amusing chugging contest of a mystery beverage between the twins (after which they simultaneously heaved into a nearby garbage can) Hermione continued her exploration of the house.

Lavender had apparently moved on from her intense discussion and was currently snogging Dean against the door, her purse and Pavarti's coat in hand, Dean had one shoe and was attempting to put on the other without breaking contact from Lavender's lips. After he got his shoe on her struggled with the door handle which was behind Lavender, before finally admitting defeat and prying his lips away from the girl, who had moved her attention to his exposed neck. He finally managed to open the door and the two headed out into the night, still attacking each other in a primal way.

"BYE LAVENDER" Hermione shouted, waving to the nearly closed door, (to this day, Hermione, in her sober review of the night, decided that the goodbye was completely pointless, but in her drunken state still felt the need to bid the couple farewell). Lavender looked up momentarily and Hermione decided it was time to be her good old sensible self and shouted "USE PROTECTION...DON'T WANT NO LITTLE BABIES RUNNING AROUND NOW DO YOU? I mean 'ANY little Babies'"

Satisfied that she had held up her responsible duties, Hermione turned and headed up the stairs, wondering what was conspiring upstairs. Reaching the midway point, Hermione began to regret the mystery drink given to her by Fred (or George), and decided the rest of the staircase could wait. Sitting squarely in the middle of the staircase, Hermione laid her head against the wall and closed her eyes momentarily to catch her breath and ease her queasy stomach.

* * *

Hermione blinked her eyes a few times a realized she wasn't sure where she was.

Her head was hitting something solid, uncomfortable, misshapen, yet oddly refreshing.

Blinking her eyes a few more times Hermione lifted her head and was attacked by a sea of white, gathering her bearings, she realized she was in the upstairs bathroom, currently hugging the toilet.

After a moment or two, Hermione attempted to stand up and realized she was still very drunk, and promptly threw up (again). Feeling somewhat better Hermione stood up and stalled for a minute attempting to quell the further wave of sickness that was about to hit her.

Once she had regained her composure, Hermione decided to call it a night and headed towards the door.

Much like Dean earlier in the evening, Hermione struggled with the door knob. However, unlike Dean, she appeared to have the inability to master such a simple task.

Searching for her wand, she realized she didn't have it. Wracking her drunken brain, Hermione decided she must have lost it somewhere in the middle of the evening between shots of firewhiskey and table dancing in the parlour with...well she couldn't remember who with,( whoever it was had messy hair though- she remembers attempting to smooth it out yet failing miserably).

Resigned Hermione slid down the door and banged her head against the frame, instantly regretting her actions.

As she raised her hand to rub her aching head she suddenly fell through the door and landed with her head between two feet.

From her angle Hermione couldn't determine who was towering above her, but decided that whoever it was had nice taste in clothing.

Hermione raised her arm and waved in between the mystery person's legs and yelled "HELLOOOOO up there!" to the mystery person's crotch.

Her mystery master-of-door-opener revealed himself to be non other than Harry-Wonder-Boy-Potter, who knelt down next to her head.

"Hermione" Harry said, placing both of his hands on either side of head for balance, his hot, firewhiskey breath tickling her forehead as he spoke gently. "Why are you lying on the floor?" He looked at her questioningly.

Looking at the upside down Harry peering down at her, Hermione suddenly burst out laughing, and sat up suddenly, catching his nose with her forehead in the process.

Clutching his nose, Harry leaned back on his heals and let out a whimper of pain.

Sitting up slowly and turning to Harry, Hermione- for the third time that evening- rubbed a drunken injury.

Seeing Harry clutching his nose, Hermione suddenly lunged at the boy and wrapped her arms around him saying "My Hero!" She of course understood why he was her hero but felt no need to explain herself further.

He sat completely stiff for an entire minute before finally returning her embrace.

He was unsure if it was the alcohol talking or a deep seated attraction to the brunette in his arms, but Harry suddenly had the urge to stroke her cheek. Sitting back and looking her directly in the eyes, Harry brought the pad of his thumb softly across her cheek, deciding that it had to have been the softest skin he'd ever touched. She leaned into his touch gently and looked at him quizzically.

Just then Ron ran up the stairs with a stuffed bunny in his hand. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Harry and Hermione sitting in the door of the bathroom. Jollily he meandered over to the couple, holding the bunny, hugging it to his cheek, with its big back feet swinging free, He was still gloriously drunk.

"Know what?" he said, "I love bunnies. They don't bite and they don't bark and they certainly don't have 8 legs. When I die, I want you to buy a bunny. Are you two listening? Better make sure youwrite it down, this is really important." He waved to the couple from under the bunny, then turned and started back down the stairs. "Where's the friggin firewhisky? I got a dry bunny over here!"

Harry and Hermione finally tore their attention from the staircase back to each other.

A tense moment passed between them, and when Hermione was quite certain she was going to explode if one of them didn't move soon, she opened her mouth to speak.

Harry used the opportunity and dove in for a kiss...but missed the mark slightly and kissed her upper lip.

Surprised none the less, Hermione pulled back and stared incredulously at Harry.

Thinking he had ruined their friendship, Harry began to get up.

"That was quite rude you know. You should always ask permission before you kiss someone." Hermione stated in her best lecture voice, however the slurs in her speech made her sound somewhat less credible.

Using the wall behind her leverage she managed to stand and offered Harry her hand. When she was sure he was steady on his feet, she looked him straight in the eye and said "Harry James Potter, may I kiss you?"

"I thought you'd never ask" was all he replied before lowering his head to meet her lips, this time hitting his mark.

Her back was against the wall within instances, with an important part of his anatomy pressed firmly into her lower abdomen.

Breaking the kiss, she gasped as his hand he slipped his hand into her pants. He trailing kisses along the line of her jaw as his fingers slipped past the elastic of her waistband.

She returned her attention to Harry's earlobe as he began directing them towards his bedroom.

"My bra and underwear don't match" she said sadly, wishing she could go back and chose a pair that were co-ordinated.

"Not important, won't be wearing 'em long" he said gruffly, focussing on a spot on her collarbone.

"I suppose not" she sighed, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in her curls and his lips on her collarbone. When he has decided she was marked as his, he moved his right hand to the hem of her shirt and slipped his hand underneath, playing lightly with her stomach.

His left hand began working her, down there. She moaned at the pleasure and he captured her lips again swallowing her moan. His right hand went up to her check and he flicked her hard nipple through the thin material, earning another moan from her. He quickly brought her to her peak and she came apart, breaking off the kiss, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her.

Perhaps it was the mixture of large amounts of alcohol and an intense orgasm, but by the time Harry had her pants off, Hermione had drifted off to sleep.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, climbing back up her body, stroking her, earning an appreciative, but sleepy response. "Hermione?" he shook her lightly, "Hermione." Sighing softly he lowered his head to her neck and let out a disgruntled groan.

Tucking her in gently, he headed off for a cold shower.

* * *

Hermione felt very thirsty. Extremely thirsty in fact. Blinking lightly Hermione turned on her back. Realizing the movement was probably not the greatest of ideas; she turned back around and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her once again.

* * *

When she awoke later that day, Hermione became aware of two things. The first, she was not in her own room. The second there was an arm wrapped around her waist. Afraid of who she would find if she turned over, Hermione closed her eyes and prayed that this was just a drunkenly induced dream.

Shifting ever so-slightly, Hermione realized one more thing; she was neither wear pants, nor underwear.

Determined not to scream, Hermione turned around to encounter her, well for now she would call him her one-night-stand.

She came face to face with Harry, and suddenly had a new reason to scream.

Had she slept with Harry? What would that do to their friendship? How would he think of her after this? How on earth did the entire night happen in the first place?

So many questions that she, for once in her life, was fairly certain she didn't want to hear the answers too.

"Hermione..." Harry mumbled softly, removing his hand from her abdomen, a sensation that was met with sadness on her part. "Morning." he said looking her right in the eye. His gaze was so penetrating that she found herself unable to turn away, lost in a sea of intense green eyes. She had never realized that his eyes had different shades of green in them, with small speckles of blue. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. She strained her memory to remember the night before, a couple of shots of firewhiskey, mixed with a shot of magical tequila, and some mystery drink. There was some table dancing, a card game, a mess on the carpet, goodbyes to Lavender- and Dean was it, waking up in the bathroom, and finally an intense kiss. The memory of the kiss brought a tingle to Hermione's stomach.

"Harry...what happened last night?" she asked softly, finally looking down, embarrassment hitting her. She was quite certain her face resembled the old colours of Gryffindor.

"A lot of drunkenness...and a cold shower." he said with a chuckle, hoping that if he made this a joke then she wouldn't run away wishing she had never met him.

"-a cold shower...so did we...?" she was no longer sure what kind of answer she wanted from him. She didn't necessarily want to have had drunken sex she can't remember, but the thought of him thinking it was a mistake was somewhat devastating.

"...no- you, well, that is to say that you were... umm, you passed out." he stammered turning an equally impressive shade of red.

"I passed out." she stated, not expecting a response.

"Look Hermione, I know we crossed a line last night. I mean we were both drunk, and clearly this is something you don't want -"

"I do." she interrupted.

"What?"

"This is something I want. If you want it of course." she couldn't bear to look him in the eye.

"Are you kidding me?" he said looking at her. Her heart broke, realizing he would never ever want to touch her. "I've wanted this for years, and by years I mean months."

"Really?" she stated genuinely surprised. "Since when?"

"Since that bloke in our _History of Magically Cursed Muggle Artifacts_ class asked permission to ask you out."

"What bloke?"

"Not important."

"But I'm confused."

"As he was asking I was all prepared to say 'yes' of course, you're a free women free to date whomever you want. But it came out 'no'. So I started thinking about why I said no, and decided you were too good for this guy. So I thought about it more, and realized no guy is good enough to be with you. Then I realized you're perfect, and that I didn't want you to be with another guy 'cause I wanted you for myself," his voice dropped to a barely audible level by the end of his confession.

When she said nothing immediately, he realizing they were still lying in bed together, their noses in incredible proximity.

On impulse, and under the influence of her own admission of wanting to be with him, he leaned up and captured her lips. After sufficiently snogging the hell out of her, they pulled apart for some much needed air.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not polite to kiss a girl without asking?" she smirked.

"Only a woman who left me high and dry after an intense snog against a wall and in this bed," he said, nipping lightly at her earlobe, "she was an incredible tease..."

"Hmm...well we should rectify her mistakes and take off from where she left off."

* * *

The line with Ron and the dry bunny is from my favourite book (and quite possibly my favourite line) of all time, Lamb by Christopher Moore, Hope you enjoyed this little plot bunny that hit me without warning. 


End file.
